Nocturnal Emissions
by Ngoc Chau
Summary: From the writer of Species and Red. The second part of Red. Filled with lemony goodness. pwp. Please read and review. You'll like it, I swear.


**Ngoc Chau does not own District 9**

**Okay.... I'm am such a dog for reviews that I've been downgraded to almost writing smut. If any of my readers out there really care for my writing, they'll at least write a 'Good job' in a review per chap.  
****Well, Red was originally supposed to be a one-shot because I wanted to write lemons involving Christopher, but I didn't want to give away spoilers. Any fanfics I did portraying the idea that Christopher did have a mate at the time, I've made the mate ambigious and you sort of have to guess whether or not the mate is human or prawn.  
****But since I saw in recent reviews that most people suggested I add another part to Red; I decided to do it in an attempt to get more hits and reviews. So.... here it is.**

**ps; this takes place after the start of Species, but before chapter 4.**

* * *

Her heavy breathing filled his ears.  
The deep hollow sounds of panting breaths and his own small grunts were one of the only sounds he could hear. His green alien hands gripped her soft, perhaps a little plump, hips as she rode him. He could feel the heat of her body on his; the savory feeling was amazing and his body wanted more of it. His hands snaked around her and he brought her squirming body closer to his. He could feel, in return, her human limbs encircling his neck and squeezing back. If it were not for the protective hides around his thick neck, he was sure that she could've strangled him in an embrace. Christopher's hands moved up; his fingers and palms were at her shoulder blades while the sharp space between his elbows remained wedged around her fleshy hips. He loved the warmth of another's so close to his. Non-humans were not as warm as most would think; their scales and hides did a good job of deflecting light, a trait that was important to their species when they were back on the mother planet.  
He purred happily from the action and held her as though she was something precious. He had never held a human -a human woman- like that and never felt a human hold his tall body in return.

Of course, in his earlier years on this planet, he had experimented with the sex slaves that the Nigerians offered in District 9; cunninlingus, anilingus, men, women, once was with a young adolescent girl he remembered shamefully. She had screamed and cried, but still forced him to knock her out first before he have sex with her. The memory of striking the girl so hard on the head that a black bruise had appeared shortly after and then fucking her while she was out cold made him wish that he had simply let her go. Alas, he was lonely in the strange place and many of the others had recommended it was a 'most intriguing thing' to try.  
Doing and using everything that there was to sex was an advanturous thing for a non-human refugee and the whores were not kind. One thing that they never did before, during, or after sex was holding.  
They would simply lie on their back, their stomachs; spread their legs wide; and bite onto something to keep from screaming, be it in pain, pleasure, or disgust. When they had climaxed or when the hour was up -whichever came first- the human whores would simply roll up and walk outside; a signal that their service was done for the time and when the pimp came, he would be asking for payment.

Still in the emotionless trade of bodies and cash, he had learned tactical senses and techniques to make a human squirm and groan.

If a human man was ever aroused, his hormones would run ablaze and rush to his member, resulting in having it stand up. For a woman, the blood would rush to her head instead and her face would turn red.  
A man would rarely want to be dominated; you would have to show he has the power to make him happy and he would make you happy. You have to be commanding with a woman, but still let her think that she has the upper hand on you when she actually doesn't. She would appreciate you for it and pleasure you with her mouth and hands.  
When you touch a man's penis and tug just hard enough for him to feel it -but to still be gentle- he would squirt and come in your very hand. When you insert your tongue or your fingers into a woman's clit, she would groan and the vaginal walls would close tighter.  
A human man would not take the punishment of having an alien probe shoved up his anus and prostate, if you choose a man, you must let yourself be dominated and let him ride you like you were his dog. A woman will allow someone to enter them, but she would like it better without seeing a non-human's face so you must make her bend over for you.

In using what he learned and picked up, even being with whores, he still made their time and business a little bit enjoyable.

Strange.... As he bounced her on his lap, her warm pussy sheathing his alien member, he couldn't recall what had happened that led to this action -the act of reproduction, intercourse. He didn't recognize where he was with the woman. He didn't even know what he had said or what she might've done that coerced the both of them to do this. Paying her or offering her money didn't come to his memories, nor does the local pimp's face. He tried to dig deep into the abysses of his mind to conect why they were like this -non-human and human in a taboo relation- but nothing would come to.  
He remembered..... nothing, not even whether it was day or night...... just..... the bright colour of crimson flashing in front of his golden eyes. He could only remember that beautiful colour contrasting, yet blending and highlighting dark skin. Then everything up until then was a blur. He.... he didn't even know her name and he was sure that she didn't know his either since nothing was spoken between them.

He touched her dark body everywhere he could. Where they were was complete darkness with only few rays of lights to tell which was what and where was it. He traced her spine upwards, her skin shivered as though it was freezing cold and he chuckled at how her body shook to the action. The white light did an amazing job for their bodies.  
It hid him well enough in the dark so that only a mossy hue of green, his golden eyes, and the long pincers of his mouth parts could be seen and confused for natural human parts. There would be no way for the officers guarding District 9 to catch him and this woman in the illegal act.  
For her; the light reflected the dark complexion and made the skin glow alight. Every arch and curve of that stunnig face was clear to see and he stared at it breathlessly. She looked so etheral to him and it made him feel better that it was someone of a different world..... like him.  
He wondered if she enjoyed the darkness -perhaps even more than he did- for then, she wouldn't actually realize the sin against nature for the carnal union of 2 completely different species.

Rubbing her back with his square palms and moving those strong claw-like fingers down to the crack of her ass, he was lost in a maze of limbs and skin and hair. In the midst, he wasn't sure what he just did, but once his long fingers touched a sensitive spot somewhere on her upper back, she tipped her head backwards and he heard a long wavering sigh escape from those thick lips of hers. He smiled in the non-human way at the accomplishment at having a woman swoon in pleasure by him. His mandibles and pincers went to her long sweaty neck and he grazed the moist skin there.  
He was being kind to her as she was being to him. If she was willing to have sex with him and not cringe at the sight of him or look away when he looked into her strange-coloured eyes, why wouldn't he give back to her?  
He was rough and gentle. He wanted complete satisfaction out of it all. It was a dangerous deal to consort with human -he could be shot on sight, even if it was the human's fault- and he would want to get the most of it from the risk he was taking. Christopher gripped her hard and massaged the skin he had in his hand. the density of it was full and lean, a little fat, but a full woman was better than a scrawny one who could break under his touch.

Her hands that seemed to tremble and stiffen so often before pressed hard against the back of his marked head down towards her bare chest. His face was smothered in her and he hoped that he wasn't scratching her too badly. He got a closer whiff of her scent and happily remarked that she smelled of fresh soap and sweat. The soap was a nice smell to have, but the sweat drove him crazy. Her pheromones and hormones were on fire and he could sense it in the beads of the salty sweat that were so close to his feelers.

_Click. _

_Click. _

_Click._

He pondered what that sound was and where was it coming from. The sound was as irritating as dripping water falling as drops into a hollow metal bowl; the clang of it ringing out each time the liquid fell. He held his breath and quickly found out. She was experimenting with him as he was with her; her nimble fingers flicked and tapped against the hard shell of his exoskeleton. It bugged him like a pesty bug buzzing close to his ears and antennas in the mid-day heat, but he let her continue.  
He couldn't question about her chasity, perhaps she was a virgin or perhaps she wasn't and had some experience about what she was doing. He didn't really care at the time, just the fact that they were together. Still, he knew for sure that he was her first in non-human on human sex. The fact that she had touched him so lightly as he could remember a while ago and now she was so bold as to guide him to where and what she wanted tipped him off.  
Her little hands rubbed deep into his spinal ridges; it cracked little muffled sounds and he twisted his head in circular motions in her chest.

He opened his snake-like jaws and his sandy long tongue crept out. He eagerly licked the beads of sweat on her chest and the woman twisted her shoulders but still resumed keeping him close to her.  
Her skin tasted like salt and dust. The flavours didn't make him think that she was dirty and unpure in any way, but he thought of her as a sort of real and raw person who had a nostalgic flair. His tongue moved on her body in circles; her gasping in rhythm with the _scckkcchh_ of his long black muscle stirring on her dark skin.  
She kissed the top of his head with wet enthusiasm. The antennas twitched up and down as her rosy pink tongue moved at the base of it. The electric jolts charged at his hips and penis; he could feel himself growing and that something was about to burst through.

Christopher was getting cross-eyed, his vision blurring, and he could barely continue breathing. The emotions and actions -everything- was sending him on a high and everything was getting thin. Wave after wave of orgasm rolled over him and he didn't want to breathe and release it so soon. He wanted to prolong it, grasp the abstract thing for as long as he could until it slipped away like sand through cracks. Every nerve of his body flared and fired at his loins. A shuddering sounds of trills escaped from his pincers and mandibles. He pushed harder into her and he could hear the heavy breathing grow slower and heavier. He nuzzled into her moist skin; her chafing human flesh rubbing against his smooth glistening plates.

As his hands traveled up and down the length of her back, her body, her curvy torso; he found hair. On the top of her hair was the bushiest hair ever. He thought it was odd that it wasn't the first thing he noticed. It felt so significant to her, that he was sure he had seen it, but the thought of it was overlooked in his mind. Her hair was barely shoulder length, just skimming the shiny skin in the dark. Yet he knew that if it was straightened out, it would've reached all the way down to her buttocks. In the dark, it looked too full to be hair; the strands of it running into circles with each other and tangling.  
He ran his long fingers through it, having it tickle and massage the nerves and sensitive parts of his hands. Running his hand through the mop of hair, he circled his fingers round and round as it moved upwards. He soon found himself trapped in the snare of hair.  
He wasn't sure if he should pull out or use the gambit of tendrils to his own advantage; maneuvering her head to allow him better access to her chin, her chest, her collar, her lips....

He moved her head towards his and licked those full lips. Tracing her mouth with his tongue, he felt a curving smile. She opened her mouth and his tongue eagerly dove in. She sucked on it as though it might've been a juicy piece of sweet ripe fruit instead of the rough-feeling non-human tongue it was. The inside of her mouth was just as warm as her core and she tasted of something bitter. He didn't mind, caring more about the way her tongue would jab playfully at his long one and then go the length of it than the odd taste of her mouth. Her own tongue lapped against his and wrestled.

So lost in the sensations and pleasures of the moment, he bumped hard against her and one of his hands pulled hard out of her curly hair. The urge to 'punish' her for making him feel so good for the risk of arrest and death and to be rough as their own tongues and hands was getting stronger; and he struck her raw on her derriere. A loud _slapp_ echoed out loud. His hovering hand could feel the firm flesh jiggle from the brutal action.  
She let go of his tongue and opened her mouth in a silent scream. Her head flopped forward and with her teeth, she grazed along the ridges of his face and cheeks. The square teeth bit and nibbled the sides of his face, down his neck, to his bony shoulders which were naked. She nibbled and licked him, teasing him with the ticklish touch. Suddenly, without any warning, she bit him hard and the pain overshadowed the sexual joy. He squealed to why she had just done that and was about to knock her off of him when she started to lick the open gash. It stung, but it was a good hurt. She blew cold breaths, but licked it with warm care. The drastic changes in temperature made him shiver and his open nerves buzzed.

He held her closer -tighter- and went at her faster, muttering and clicking incomprehensible things that even he himself couldn't understand but had to utter. His mind was getting jumbled and his eyes were begging him to sleep and let the sexual indulgence lull him into an impossible sleep in such a dangerous place. He wouldn't go to sleep. He refused to. It was foolhardy to fall asleep and miss the best fucking thing.

As he moved faster, her breathing grew in tune with the pushing. Her toenails scratched his back and he arched to move deeper within her. She was so welcoming to his member that he wished he could've just went farther and farther in. They grinded their hips together, the slapping sounds of flesh and armor was loud and it was almost like rain. He grunted again as the strength of his arms soon dwindled from the strenous activity of copulation.  
He couldn't imagine why his arms were getting tired so fast holding her. He could carry things almost twice his weight and the labour he had to do made him stronger than before. His tissue and muscles felt like they were being stretched for miles and used as plucking strings or elastics; he charged harder into her and slowly made smaller movements inside of her.

She seemed unsatisfied with the sudden decrease in stamina. But she was understanding to him. She moved her knees higher up and adjusted her seating on his lap so that her womanhood was at a different angle for better movement. His arms laid limp around her shoulders and she carried the dead-weight as she bounced and rode him like he was a bucking bronco.  
His breathing was coming into balance and everything was slowly getting clearer. He sighed as he could feel the final layer of ejaculation; from the pits of his stomach to the tip at the end of his shaft.

It was something.... phenomenal..... Something -an emotion, a being- that was practically undescibable but so wonderful. The heat flipped and did swirls and moved as smooth as cream. It skimmed the top of his penis like it may as well been a sharp blade and he felt a danger to it and a welcoming feeling. _It_ sprinted and was released in a shower of black and grey inside the warm walls. A loud cry, a cry of triumph, of manly power, of a good decade of pent-up frustration that was finally being released echoed in the darkness and just stopped time. He shook and his body jerked. His clickings were hesitant. His jaws opened and closed as though he could've been stuttering. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and with the last of his strength, he leaned back against something and caged the human in his hold.  
_'Amazing! Fucking amazing!_' he thought to himself.  
The lusty flame was still fed as the human woman still moved against him. He tried hard to maintain a full erection, yet he could feel it softening between her legs and slowly start to shrink back.

She pounded harder -the sounds of his hips banged loud into what was behind him- but slower, also getting tired. He tiredly caressed her face and he felt like he had been trapped by a lioness who would have her way with him until she was satisfied. Her pencil thin eyebrows were furrowed in determination and her white teeth were biting her black lips; he was suddenly reminded of a matyr that was enduring trials. In one last final push, he felt her tighten and his sharp tip being suffocated by her sex. She blew a long whistling sound and fell against him in a tangle of arms and legs.  
In a moment, she was suddenly a breath away from him and they looked at each other. It was like the place had grown brighter but still stayed dark.

He studied her face.

_"I was so afraid.... I'd almost forgotten your face...."_ he clicked in a murmer. She didn't respond to him, but kept staring at him and stroking V-shaped fold in the middle of his chest. A long finger caressed and moved across her face. He studied it and tried to burn it into his head that even when they would part, he would still carry it so clearly.  
Her child-like heart-shaped face, how the sides of her visage joined at the pointed chin; the bushy hair with strands going everywhere and he brushed it out of the way, chuckling; her long neck which was covered by his love-bites and the darker welts; full thick lips that were parted with bright white teeth gleaming through; and most of all, her eyes.

The eyes were the most special about her; almond-shaped and slanted, but appearing straight. They were cat eyes, eyes of a devious, cunning, playful, and jaunty being. He felt like he was being faced against a mastermind looking into those eyes. But it couldn't be. He was a non-human and she was a human; her intelligence couldn't compare with him. Then he felt fearful. She couldn't be smart, but she could be tricky. What if she was trapping him into something? His doubts and worries melted away gone when she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the bulge of his face between his amber eyes.  
They were brown like the rich soil after rain.... No, they were brown like the shiny rust on metal.... No, they weren't that dark and they weren't that bright, they were..... The colour was warm like melted chocolate. But they weren't just brown.  
No, they were... blue?  
No.... no..... no, they were green.  
A splash of green printed itself into her brown eyes, like the green jealousy of envious hearts defiling fertile land. They changed and moved like powdering blood in opaque waters. They.... He stopped in mid thought and wondered where he knew such forms of speaking like an old romantic.

_"You look like a cat."_ he laughed, his antennas bouncing excitedly against the top of her fuzzy head.

She said nothing but kissed him again.

"_Would... would you tell me your name?"_

Her mouth moved but he couldn't hear anything.

_"What?"_ he questionned. What had she said?_  
"What?"_ he repeated.

He heard a small "tch" from her tongue clicking against her teeth and.....

* * *

_He wakes up in the middle of the room.  
__It is night.  
There is nothing around him at all. _

_He rises up from his humble matress. He pants and breathes heavily as he studies the dark room; his golden eyes narrow and he makes out the frail lines of everything he recognizes. Christopher places a hand in the middle of his chest and slowly, his breathing becomes less laboured.  
"Just a dream, it was only a dream." he clicks to himself, wanting to speak out loud and actually hear reality instead of believing this to be a second twist to the dream. His fingers creep over his rigid face and his complosure slumps. _

_Another dream, the most vivid he can remember experiencing. It is terrible enough that his curiosity of the bushy haired cat-eyed woman bothers him during the day, but now in his dreams? It is even more worse that his imagination would project her in the way of whores. If there is one thing he is sure about her at least; she isn't a whore. If she is one, she would've worn more revealing clothes and he he probably would've met her sooner in District 9. _

_He feels ashamed that he should think of an innocent woman who was attacked, the most that she could possibly think of him would be an aqauintance. She couldn't like him so much to consort with him, she definitely couldn't love a being different from her enough to... to... to... to do that with him. He can easily picture someone like her with a companion already but the thuoght of it turns him off.  
He thinks of something else to get off the subject whether or not she might have a boyfriend and blushes as he recalls a memory of her face; flushed and red from the endurance of the sexual act.  
It isn't as though he is in love with her. He knows for sure that he admires her naive nature and her polite ways. But he cannot be in love with someone he just met. He cannot care for a human as a human could care for him. _

_Yet, he tries hard to remember the sensations of the dream; the soft human touch, her hot breath mingling with his, the curves of her body melting between his hide plates, her hips grinding to meet with the tempo of his thrusts, the tingling sensitive nerves under his hands, her lips moving in mute talking....  
__He crosses his hands across his chest like a mortician would for a corpse and he lies back down. _

_Christopher wonders if the dream means anything at all. Most of all, he wonders if tomorrow will be the day that he will finally see her again -just to say thank you. He goes back to sleep to dream a dreamless slumber; with the chill nipping at him and an unsatisfying unfulfilled feeling falling upon him._

* * *

**Please revlew and tell me what you think.**

**Plus, should I do something from the human woman's view?**

**Tell me what you think. **

**Also, don't forget to review Species**


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